


buy one, get one

by thir13enth



Series: shiro.exe [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Double Penetration, F/M, Polyamory, Sex with Angst, messy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 18:11:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20493092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: In reality, Allura knows that she can only have one Shiro at a time, but in Allura’s high fantasies, she has all of them at once.





	buy one, get one

**Author's Note:**

> this was literally just rotting in my drafts for more than a year. maybe it has aged well? 
> 
> i present to you a glass of shallura 2018, a full-bodied red wine with a balanced aroma of angst and smut and the citrusy sweet aftertaste of fluff.

If it wasn’t for his full head of white hair, she might have actually thought that everything was completely back to what it was before.

But Allura knows it’s not. Even if Shiro is ready to accept her all over again and pick up from things like nothing ever happened, Allura can’t get past in her mind that there was a whole several phoebs where she was enjoying love from an entirely other someone else.

And even if that entirely other someone else looked exactly the same as Shiro, the kisses, the sex, the _fucking _was a completely different experience.

He kisses her along the crook of her neck as she feels the last pieces of her clothing fall to floor. He walks her backwards until they fall into bed. His lips never leave her body as she shifts their bodies to the center of the mattress, dragging the covers and sheets with her back. Only then, he lifts his mouth from her skin to remove his pants. He unbuckles his belt, pulling it out of the loops so quick the belt flicks her right breast — a sharp pain that she relishes more than she expects.

She pulls everything down from him all at once, and his cock springs up from underneath. She pulls him back down to her, wrapping her legs around him. She presses her lips to his, urging him to enter her.

He props himself up and for a brief moment, he lets the tip of his cock tease her folds but their combined impatience brings him into her before too long.

“Fuck. _Yes_,” she sighs, feeling her stretch around him. She hears him release a grunt at the same time, his hot breath over her ear.

He begins to move, in and out, repositioning his hands on the mattress to give himself a better position. She runs her hands over his broad shoulders, down his tense arms, holding his thick waist — as if re-orienting herself to his body. It’s the exactly the same — it’s _always_ been the same — but she’s figuring him out all over again.

She’s forgotten how strong and steady Shiro — _this _Shiro — is during sex, and just how much stamina and drive he can maintain. How he lets gravity take the weight of his muscled body down into her. The power behind his strokes takes her by full surprise again, as if she’s fucking him again for the first time, and it feels so unexpected and delightful that she can’t control herself. She closes her eyes and moans with an open mouth as he pounds deep inside of her, stretching and collapsing her walls as he rocks back and forth against her, the backs of her thighs slapping his hips.

He gives her no recovery time — he pulls back on his outstroke but just before she takes a half-breath, his shaft completely disappears into her again and she groans with whatever dead air is left in her lungs.

God how she loves what Shiro is delivering her, but she feels a growing craving for the fast and shallow pulses his other self served her. She longs for it, and what’s worse is that she very well knows this _very same body _can provide it to her simply _because_ it is exactly the same body.

She just has to ask.

So the next time he fills her, she locks her heels at his back and her knees at his waist and holds him down firmly within her. She takes a much needed breath, feeling the rush of her heartbeat when his dark eyes graze over her body in their pause.

“Can you…” She inhales over the crook of his neck, taking in the scent of his skin. “Can you… go faster?” she requests, smoothing her hands down his back, catching with the friction of sweat.

He gives her no reaction, just a lovedrunk stare through half-open eyes. “Yes,” he obliges nevertheless, with deep inhale and a hasty kiss to her neck. She feels him shift his body over her to ready himself, and he slides both forearms under her shoulders to grasp the bedsheets underneath.

“You don’t have to go all the way,” she quickly adds. “Just fast.”

He purrs in response, ducking his head down to lightly roll his tongue over her right breast before lifting his torso up again to restart their momentum.

“Whatever your heart desires, Princess,” he tells her, then goes.

Her eyes flutter close almost immediately as he lifts up and re-enters exactly as she asked. Quick and swift, in and out of her like there’s no time to spare.

He penetrates just past mid-shaft, not letting gravity take him all the way, before backing out again. This new angle shifts her rising climax from deep within her pelvis to the surface seams of her core, and his renewed energy gives her no rest. He bucks at her relentlessly, and she hangs onto him desperately to harness herself. His body is sleek with sweat, but she manages to clutch his back with her fingernails.

Slowly, her moans quiet into voiceless ecstasy as she starts to lose her mind. All she hears is the sound of his slick entrance and her wet center, his harsh breath and her light gasps.

“Is this how he fucked you?” he asks her suddenly, his husky whisper tickling the very tip of her ear.

Her eyes snap open, bewildered by the question.

She looks over his eyes, and with just a glance at his perceptive gaze, she sees he already knows the answer. She can’t read if he’s jealous or if he’s betrayed at all that she bared her everything to someone else in his absence, even worse — a copy of him that was ironically nothing like him.

Her grasp on him loosens, and her feet fall flat next to his knees on the mattress. He slows the tempo as he realizes that her mind is distracted.

“Yes,” she finally replies.

“Hmm…” he hums, leaning down to kiss her forehead before thrusting his hips forward, eliciting a surprised grunt from her when she feels the tip of his member slam deep into her. He gently continues, watching her with hooded eyes, trying to see if he can pick up the pace from where he left off.

Eventually, he sees that thoughts are still occupying her mind and he pulls out completely, rolling onto his side and facing her. He tucks a strand of her hair back behind her ear, his fingers settling at the corner of her jaw. His other hand — the new white prosthetic they built for him — reaches for her hand and weaves the metal digits through her fingers.

“Hey,” he says.

“Sorry,” she apologizes, looking down at their entwined hands. Her eyes flicker back to meet his. “Are you upset with me?”

“What?”

“For fucking him.”

Shiro opens his mouth, as if to question, but she interrupts him.

“Your other self,” she clarifies. “I fucked him.”

“I know,” he says then.

“You’re not upset?”

He looks at her with furrowed eyebrows. “No,” he assures her. He holds her eyes for a moment, like he’s trying to see if she believes what he’s saying, and then he smiles. “The circumstances were strange. And if anything, I’m glad he made you happy while I wasn’t here,” he adds.

His smile grows wider, and then he picks his head up to plant a kiss on her lips.

She slides her fingers out from his grasp and stops his advancing kiss, taking his face in both hands.

“You don’t understand,” she tells him, stone-faced. She hesitates and then confesses, “I loved him.”

He laughs through his nose. “I hope you love me, clone or original,” he replies wryly.

She shakes her head. “I loved _him_,” she repeats. “He wasn’t just a replacement. I loved him, too. Just like how I love you.” She searches his eyes for any hint of anger, but seeing none, she continues. “I know you are both the same person — the same beautiful eyes and these same _dreadful_ ears — but when I think of him, and when I think of you… I think of two different men. And I love you, and I love him. I love both of you.”

He swallows slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I see.”

She averts her eyes downward. His gaze is too dark, too intense. “That’s why I would understand if you are upset with me at all,” she says, almost under her breath. “I love two men… and sometimes when I see you, I think of him. And in the past, there were times I saw him, and I thought of you.”

Saying this out loud — finally, after keeping it all in her own head for so long — makes it sound even messier, and her forehead crinkles. She bits her bottom lip, running her thumb over the line of his jaw.

“And it doesn’t help that you both are identical,” she murmurs, trailing on. “It’s like… I love two people. Two people with the same face and the same name… and I could say the name of whichever came to mind and it wouldn’t matter because neither of you would know.”

Her thumb circles up his chin, then traces the lower edges of his lips.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes.

She looks at him momentarily, and for a tick, it feels like she’s talking to both of them, like they shared those beautiful eyes and those dreadful ears, like they heard her confess her love and her duplicity at the same time.

“Do you miss him?”

Her eyes flit back up to his, caught unexpected. She opens her mouth and closes it, then tries again.

“Yes,” she admits.

He chooses his words carefully. “Do you… want me to be him?” he asks slowly.

“What?”

“I can be whoever you want me to be,” he tells her softly.

She shakes her head. “No,” she refuses, her hands coming up to cover her face in shame. “No, that would be just wrong.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” he counters, his hands reaching for her wrists and pulling them away. “Allura, look at me.”

When she does, he grants her a smile.

“I don’t care who you see when you see me,” he says, his eyes true. “For all I know, he and I have become one person. If you love us, and we love you, there is really no difference who you think of.”

“I…” she replies, but she doesn’t complete her sentence, trailing off as he slowly lifts himself over her, parting her thighs with his knees. He plants his palms on other side of her chest and ducks his head down to give her a light kiss on the lips.

“Tell me how you want me,” he murmurs, his mouth following a muscle down her neck, his breath clouding over the goosebumps forming on her skin. “I’ll be sure to fuck you right.”

With his words, she arches her back as she feels the heat rising back in her core, feels her wetness making her inner thighs sticky. She watches him astutely, trying to meet his eyes through his white bangs as he brings his tongue over the slope of her breast. She lets out a small gasp when he suckles on the nipple. She starts to feel her inhibitions break down, but she is still hesitant.

“We can make this easier for you,” he offers, raising his head to look up at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Close your eyes.”

She looks at him confusedly. He reaches over the mountain of blankets and pillows they’ve pushed aside on the mattress and retrieves his undershirt, holding it between both hands just above her eyes.

“You don’t have to see,” he says. “Now you can just imagine.”

She breathes in sharply, his words echoing in her mind. She swallows thickly, reaching up to take his hands and pulling the fabric toward her, closing her eyes as she presses it against her face. The musky scent of his skin lingers on his shirt, and the way his smell overwhelms her senses makes excitement spark at the edge of her desire.

She feels him tie the cloth firmly behind her head, and as he captures her lips with a deep kiss, his hands roam down both sides of her body, stopping at the widest curve of her hips. Not being able to see him — only feeling the hot warmth of his palms, hearing the wet sound of his kiss — makes her hundred times more sensitive to his touch. She hears him inhale as he lifts his mouth from her lips, and she holds her breath because she can only _imagine_ where his tongue is going next…

“_Yes_, Shiro…” she croons, spreading her legs further apart underneath his body. “Fuck me, Shiro.”

She doesn’t need to figure out which Shiro she is commanding — only that either one is here to pleasure her and that either one is hers to have.

“Yes, Princess.” His hands take her ankles and pulls them up, letting them rest on his shoulders. He leans into her, stretching her legs back and angling her hips further upward, and she feels the tip of his member poised at her entrance.

“Please, please, fuck me,” she pants, reaching down to stretch open her folds. She circles his shaft with her thumb and index finger, tracing her seams with the tip. When she feels his hips push forward, she guides him inside her again, groaning as he penetrates her all the way to his base.

He picks up the rhythm with each thrust, each one stronger and harder than the last. She desperately tries to find something to hold onto, something to keep her in place and something to clutch as he takes her. Her hands clamor along the headboard of her bed, grasping the edge of it as frantically as she tries to keep herself from climaxing too soon.

“Fuck! Takashi!” she exclaims in between his momentum. She slurs in Altean as her senses begin to override with just the sound of his body against hers and the feel of his cock occupying her to the brim. She lets go of the headboard and fists the bedsheets underneath her, her words turning into indiscriminate syllables and soon enough, a single vowel-ed cry indicating her arrival.

Her climax shakes her entire body more forcefully than she has experienced in a long time. Her thighs press together and her back arches up. She contracts in powerful waves, laughing as her orgasm releases from her system in a final shudder. She bites down on her lower lip, trying to hold back her amusement.

She feels his warmth radiating over her skin as he lowers his body squarely over hers. His fingers run over her lips and she can hear the smile that stretches over his face.

“Don’t hide that grin from me,” he says, nuzzling the ticklish skin under her jaw. “I love seeing it.”

She pushes upwards with her hands, landing on whatever part of him hovers over her. Her fingers feel the ridges of his torso and follow a trail of curly hairs until she palms his hard cock in one hand, his balls in another.

“If you like seeing it so much, then why don’t you hurry up and make me come again?” she dares him with a smirk.

“I won’t delay.”

She grunts in approval, turning her body over and laying her stomach onto the bedsheets, feeling the cold wet spot she’s left on the sheets over her knees. She crouches forward to her forearms and her knees, her thighs split wide and her ass offered upward. She feels his hands round over her bottom, his teeth gently bite one of the cheeks.

She purrs, a deep rumble in her throat as his hand slides over her seams, spreading her arousal as if painting with his fingertips. She feels his lips approach her entrance, flick his tongue and dragging it languidly over her folds as he spreads her wide with his fingers. She sighs in delight, yielding herself even more to him, and when his mouth travels upwards and teases at the other tight opening in line, she feels her heart flutter as the stimulation sparks a renewed greed deep in her pelvis.

Allura hums in approval, craning her neck to face him, even though she sees nothing but darkness through his shirt. “I know you like it in the ass,” she says slowly, her hips swaying from side to side as if to further encourage him.

“Do I?”

She bites her bottom lip. “Yes…” she drawls.

“Or is it just _you_ that likes it in the ass?” he muses. She can hear his smirk, how he chews the side of his tongue to keep his smile small because she most definitely would be able to feel the stretch of his lips over her entrance.

“So what if I do?”

“Well how do you know that’s what _I _want to do? How do you know that I don’t just want to spend the rest of my life with your hips in my hands and your ass in my face?”

She huffs. “Oh, Shiro, put it in me already,” she commands.

He laughs, so deep in his stomach that she can feel the mattress vibrate under her hands and knees. Then, he presses one last kiss on the small of her back, smoothing his hands over her hips and securing himself a position right behind her. She feels his hard member tap against the back of her thighs, and he slowly guides its tip upwards.

He drags a few fingers over her cunt, spreading her lubrication in and around her asshole. One, two fingers slip in, and she breathes out, relaxing as he helps her open up. She moans, leaning further into her forearms and concentrates on fitting him into her. He coordinates with her — holding position when she inhales and tightens, advancing as she releases a breath and loosens — before he is down to his base inside her.

“_Fuck_, Allura,” he groans.

She giggles, but then he pulls in and out with another stroke and her laughs turn into a gasp.

Eyes wrapped in darkness, she is left with nothing but satisfying sensation of him filling her and her imagination of her entrance taking him in completely. She forgets what everything looks like around her. She doesn’t remember what color the bedsheets are or where the pillows went or how much wet she’s left on the mattress — all she hears is her own gasps as he rocks in and out of her, every now and then a guttural groan escaping her throat. All she feels is his cock inside her, hitting her at that spot she likes from behind. All she feels is her growing desire for all the pleasure he promised her, all the pleasure he can provide.

“Takashi…” she moans. “Oh, Takashi…”

She forgets that she only has one of them. She forgets that one has replaced the other and that the other has returned to replace the one. She forgets that there is no possibility that both of them are there and with her in the same moment — she doesn’t see at all and she doesn’t have to see reality.

She can imagine anything she wants. And she _can_ have both of them.

Hands. His hands. Their hands. Warm soft hands. Cold smooth hands. Both their hands roam her body, molding her breasts into their palms and pulling back her hair. Soft lips and hot breath over her skin. Whispers telling her how beautiful and divine she is. Her body pressed between their bodies. Her name on their tongues. Their cocks hard for her, eager for her, ready for her…

“Both of you,” she pants, swallowing another moan as he enters her again. “I want_ both_ of you.”

He thrusts into her once, slow. “Both of us?”

“Yes,” she repeats, breathless from desire. “I want _both of you inside me_.”

“Something tells me you want more than you have,” he replies.

She shakes her head. “I can have both of you,” she pouts. “I can fit both of you.”

“Greedy, greedy princess…” he murmurs. “You just want as many Shiros as you can get.”

“Yes…” she agrees undoubtedly. “Yes, I do.”

“Hm…” he hums. She hears him rummage with the things on the bed, giving her an extra fuck between the empty moments. She moans louder with each stroke, exhilarated and impatient for what she knows is about to come.

And finally when one hand returns to rest on her hips, another cock lies at her unoccupied entrance, circling around her edges. Cold fingers spread even colder gel over the tip, and she shivers impatiently, moving her hips backwards to encourage him inside.

“Shiro…” she begs again, angling herself up to him as much as she can.

But Shiro is testing her limits.

“Put it inside me already,” she whines. “I want _both_ of you.”

She feels his voice against her ear, his sweaty skin against her back. “Patience, Princess,” he chuckles, tracing the cock around her opening.

All she wants to do is sit herself backwards so that she forces his entrance, but she tames her fire and bites her lip, waiting for him to proceed instead. What she doesn’t expect is for him to tortuously tease her over and over again, until she breaks a sweat and lets out a desperate whimper.

“_Please_ Shiro,” she breathes. She can feel herself drip down between her thighs. Thinking of her obvious arousal and her vulnerability makes her cheeks flush hot — god, she truly _is_ a completely different person in bed. She would never in her life be able to let down her walls around others like she does with… him? …them? …both Shiros?

He finally penetrates her then, completely unexpected.

“Ah!” she exclaims. She can sense she’s already tight with the other cock completely inside her because he applies much more pressure to get in and because his entrance is slow and labored. She spreads her knees wider and arches her back more, as if to give him better access, but she knows at this point it’s all about relaxing and patience until her body stretches out to welcome both of them.

“You ready, Allura?” he asks her.

She sighs loudly and nods her head. As soon as she gives approval, both cocks move. At first, they’re at the same rhythm, entering and exiting her with a force that collapses her self-control. Then later, they shift out of sync and give her no time between in and out, she suddenly doesn’t know when to breathe.

“Oh— Sh-Shiro, fuck!” she moans, wringing whatever is in her hands. Her cheek rests against whatever soft surface, and her mouth hangs open with her heavy breathing, drops of spit escaping her lips. “_Fuck!_ _Shiro!_”

And even in the midst of her losing her mind over these delicious carnal feelings, she hesitates. She doesn’t know which Shiro she was thinking of, and she doesn’t know which Shiro’s name she was crying out.

Why does she care? Why does she still feel guilty?

But she can’t answer these questions right now. She can’t think straight. Her mind and her body are completely occupied, and her skin is being littered with kisses. She can’t see so her imagination is taking up all of her brain processes. All she is left with is heightened senses and an increasingly overwhelming tension that she doesn’t think she can hold back any longer —

“Fuck,” she curses, feeling the muscles in her pelvis tighten and her toes curl. She grips the pillows, sheets, whatever the hell is in front of her. She’s completely scattered.

And maybe it’s a combination of her busy mind trying to keep hold of her sense or the novelty of having both her ass and cunt occupied, but she relinquishes power over herself more quickly and more easily than ever before.

“Fuck,” he growls. “_Allura._”

“Yes!” she shrieks.

“Come for me, Allura,” he purrs.

“Don’t stop. Please,” she gasps.

She feels herself buckle and then finally, release. “Shiro! Fuck!” she exclaims. She feels her arms give out and her knees squeeze in. She shrieks into whatever soft mattress or pillow she has in front of her and rides out her orgasm, holding her breath with each wave until the ebb and flow of the pulses are tolerable enough for her to handle with a laugh and a smile.

She rolls over onto her back, feeling their cocks pull out of her. She feels strong arms wrapping around her body and wet kisses decorating her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, her shoulders. She hears deep chuckles and whispered I-love-yous in her ear. She feels warm, so warm and enveloped and secure.

Maybe it’s the aftereffect of mind-shattering sex against a self-resisting ego, but it’s about now that she finally accepts... everything. All the strange circumstances that has shaped their relationship this way. All the unique and special things about each Shiro she loves and how there truly was no substitute for either one. How they shared the same body, the same mind, and the same space in her heart.

Does it matter which Shiro she fucks? They were both here with her now, and they were both here reciprocating her desires. They don’t care who she thinks about because she thinks about them both and because they only want her to lose herself and experience all the pleasure her body could handle. They don’t care which one claims her orgasm because they know they can achieve it both as individuals and together.

Maybe this is all she needed to realize, maybe this is all she needed to stop feeling guilty about. The fact that she loved two men — equally and powerfully and intimately.

And what a revelation that is, because when the blindfold is lifted, all she sees are their eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> you know where to find me:
> 
> discord: ahumanintraining#2153  
twitter: napsbeforesleep  
tumblr: ahumanintraining


End file.
